


Come Away

by Jibbly



Category: Captain America (Movies), The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: M/M, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-06-30
Updated: 2014-06-30
Packaged: 2018-02-06 20:19:47
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 974
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1871091
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Jibbly/pseuds/Jibbly
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It was three months since the attack on SHIELD, and a week since he showed up at Steve's door at two in the morning asking for help.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Come Away

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Buckyoubucky](https://archiveofourown.org/gifts?recipient=Buckyoubucky).



> Yeah, this is a short chapter

It was three months since the attack on SHIELD, and a week since he showed up at Steve's door at two in the morning asking for help.

 

In the two months that he'd been on the run, his memories had gradually returned to him. There was no way to know if all of them were back, if there was still holes lingering in the space of his mind. But one thing that did come back with complete certainty, 

was the memories of being the Winter Soldier.

 

Every training session, bullet, beating, wiping, and kill. That was the part that came to him first. It was like a hot iron brand against his mind, and just as painful.

 

Those were the memories that came to him first. All those horrible things that he'd done, that they had made him do, that he was no programmed to do. That first month away from both HYDRA and SHIELD was torture, and the worst thing he could remember 

 

happening to him. 

 

He hardly slept, afraid of the terrors that sleep would bring, but he still saw all the faces of all the people he'd killed and hurt awake. He moved frequently, not wanting to stay in one place too long, but refusing to leave Brooklyn. It felt important to him, and that 

 

second month told him why.

 

His nightmares became less and less frequent, and were replaced with simple dreams. The first memories were just flashes of daily things. A small balcony garden on the railing of a dingy apartment. The smell of a girl's perfume that he had taken dancing 

 

once. A stray gray mutt that would always tip over the building's garbage, looking for something to eat.

 

Then he would get glimpses of a small slender set of shoulders. A blonde tuff of hair from under thin bed covers. A bright and beautiful smile that he remembered made his chest tight whenever it was directed at him.

 

The snippets of memories eventually morphed together into a person not long after that. 

 

Sometimes the person was small, skinny, something that made every fiber of his being yearn to protect him.

 

Other times, the person would be larger, taller, stronger.

 

That's when he remembered the man on the bridge, the one on the hellicarrier. 

 

He remembered the first time that he had said the blonde man's name out loud. There had been tears trailing down his unshaven cheeks, and his throat and chest constricted.

 

'The man hadn't lied to him' 

 

Immediately after he had had that thought, he had thrown up. All bile spitting out of his mouth and stinging his eyes.

 

He had tried to kill Steve.

 

Steve had tried getting through to him that entire time in the crashing airship. Begging him to remember who he was, remember who Steve was, and refusing to fight like every bit of the reckless punk he knew him to be.

 

Then the dreams and nightmares started blending together. And those nights, those were the worst.

 

A mission in Norway, where he had to eliminate an entire family. The mother and father killed cleaning through their own bedroom window, and a shot to the back of a little girl's head as her and her brother tried to escape their apartment. He had climbed 

 

down from his vantage point and jumped down the wall to reach the son who had darted into an alleyway.

 

He remembered unhooking a small pistol with a silencer on it and stalking the dark alley. the boy was young, about maybe fifteen, and it was easy to corner him against the corner of a wall. 

 

When he raised his gun, the boy's hair was no longer brown and his eyes green, but blonde and deep ocean blue. 

 

He shot a hole straight between the boy's eyes before waking up screaming.

 

When he had shown up at Steve's apartment door, and saw the other stand so still at the sight of him, he felt ne' left his mouth.rvous. Afraid that the blonde would turn him away. He wasn't the same James Buchanan Barnes that smiled a little too cockily and 

 

swung an arm around Steve anymore.

 

He was dangerous now.

 

But the stillness in those broad shoulders only lasted a few seconds before a soft and broken sounding "Buck?" left his mouth.

 

And in that moment, looking at those deep blue eyes that looked centuries older than the both of them combined, that he truly felt like he was drowning. 

 

He had tried to keep his face strong, setting his jaw and feeling his teeth grind down against each other, but he still felt his icy blue eyes burn with unshed tears. "I need help."

 

Steve had practically vaulted himself from the door frame to throw his arms around him. A shaky breath released itself from the brunette's mouth, and he controlled himself to keep still. 

 

The was so much that had changed. So much pain and suffering between the two of them, but the one thing that hadn't changed was Steve's hands. They had always been big and long fingered, even before the serum. 

 

Bucky felt one cradle the back of his head, tangling itself in the messy strands of his hair, and the other grip him tightly from his right shoulder.

 

Steve had crushed himself against the him, and there was a dampness and a shaking of the blonde's broad shoulders that told him Steve was crying. 

 

He felt hot tears leave his own eyes as the heat and felt the jack hammering of the other's heart against his chest. 

 

In that moment, everything was warm and safe. He lifted his own hands, both metal and flesh and held onto Steve like he was going to sink right through the floor. 

 

Bucky would kill anyone that tried to take this moment away from them.


End file.
